Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street,
by Shaggelmalove
Summary: Title changed, I'm just nit creative ' I included the summary within in the bold print as it gives me more room to summarize and explain. Please enjoy and review!
1. Chapter 1

**AN: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE SWEENEY TODD: DEMON BARBER OF FLEET STREET FRANCHISE!  
Me: Well, this is my first Sweeney Todd fan-fiction, so of course it's going to a be a sweenett, only my story will be based more off the actual story and historical happenings of the actual events of murder that the real Sweeney Todd inflicted upon the inhabitants of 18th century London.  
Athena: Note, this will mean that there was never a Lucy, Anthony, Benjamin Barker, or Johanna.  
****Annabeth: Please, do enjoy and indulge yourself in the world of Sweeney Todd, demon barber of our hearts.  
Arya: Do review as well!**

**Chapter One: First Blood,**

"There, you're free to go about your way, Mr. Todd." A burly police officer said as he uncuffed a tall, handsome, yet strangely ghost-like young man. The man had curly red hair that hung to his shoulders and was incredibly thin from his many years in Newgate Prison. The man was fourteen when he was saved from the gallows in favor of living in starvation and filth that was Newgate. He was orphan then, and is so now at nineteen. The last he had seen his alcoholic parents, they had left him home alone in their 'home' in search of drink. No one knows what happened to them, whether they froze to death in the freezing winter storm, or abandoned their only child to starve himself to death in their London home. But now the past was the past and that child was an adult.

"Thank you, officer." Mr. Todd managed to grunt as he picked up what few belongings he had had while locked within the prison walls. He set off with his tools into the crowded streets hoping to find a small free area of space to set up his work. While in prison, Mr. Todd had made use of the prison barber Plummer, in learning the barber's trade. He found an empty space in the middle of a town square. He opened his small bag of belongings and withdrew from it a small wooden case. Opening it gently, Mr. Todd removed the six glistening razors from within the velvet lining. His fingers tingled with the familiar violent urges he seemed to always feel when he had the power of damaging objects in his grip.  
He forced himself to remove the feeling however as a tap came hence on his shoulder. Mr. Todd turned slowly to face a pretty young prostitute, no doubtedly one of many in the underclass society that London held. She gave him a smile he was sure she had given to many other men in her life before.

"Hello Mister," She said twirling her long blonde locks of golden hair. He grunted a hello in response to her. She continued anyway.

"My name's Lorelei Eve, I couldn't help but notice just how... handsome you are Mister..."

"Todd, Sweeney Todd." He told her, no hint of any emotion in his thick voice.

"Well Mr. Todd, I'd be happy to make your acquaintance in far... better ways." He sneered at the vulgar woman before him. At the moment he despised her more than the sickening Londoners that walked the streets around him. He clutched the razor he held in his hand in a deathly grip.

"Lorelei! Stop bothering the poor man!" Another girl with the same bouncy blonde curls as Lorelei said as she rushed onto the scene and latched upon her arm.

"I'm quite sorry sir, my sister doesn't mean any harm." She said as she pulled Lorelei away. "As for you Lorelei, home before Mother finds what business you've been having in these godforsaken streets!"  
With a slight mumble of annoyance, Lorelei stalked off and into a house not far down the street from where they stood.

"Once again, I'm terribly sorry. My name's Adallei," She said holding out her hand to Mr. Todd. He took it smiling at her. This sister seemed much different than the other. More civilized, more calm, more... radiant in beauty.

"My name's Sweeney, Sweeney Todd." He said, warmly introducing himself to the kind young lady.  
"Well how d'you do Mr. Todd?" She asked kindly, returning his smile.  
"I fair fine, and yourself?" He asked, remaining calm and lighthearted in his conversation with Adallei. She smiled at his response and so began the slow and steady relationship that began to unfold between the young barber and the young woman. Their love flourished, until that is a man came for a shave from Mr. Todd.

"G'evenin'," said a portly fellow as he sat down on Mr. Todd's barber chair in the small street corner that Sweeney Todd was working out of.

"Evening sir, what'll it be?" Mr. Todd asked as he lightly draped a sheet from an old bed-set over the gentleman and tying it behind the neck as to keep it in place. He began the process of placing the shaving creme about the gentleman's exposed chin, jawline, and neck. As the process began, they slipped into idle conversation.

"Right did I have a good night," The man joked as he recounted a young woman whom he had romanced the night before. "Right beautiful she was," He continued as Mr. Todd continued to shave the stubble from his face and neck. "Long golden hair, amber eyes, pretty rosy lips..." He went on to describe the woman in detail. Mr. Todd began to shake angrily. The man's last words before his throat was slit were;

"And the lasses name was Adallei,"

Sweeney had begun his revenge on society and all sanity that was there in, left without a thought of remorse...


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE SWEENEY TODD: DEMON BARBER OF FLEET STREET FRANCHISE!  
Me: I know that originally, it takes Sweeney several years to gain enough capital to buy his shop above Mrs. Lovett's pie shop, but I'm just going to ignore that small fact...**

**Chapter Two: Bad Business,**

A young brunette haired women, who's locks of hair were generally frazzled, stood behind the large front window of her famous Meat Pie shop. She stared as customer after customer walked past her formerly renound store. For some strange reason or another, business had gone terrible. Perhaps it was that she was recently widowed, or maybe that she simply lost the battle with the pie shop down the road that no customers dared enter her store to savor her delicacies. However, she must keep the store open, though it might as well be closed.  
The young woman walked behind the counter and opened a small drawer, withdrawing her purse from within. She carefully counted what was left of her coins. Only fifty out of what must have been a hundred. She sighed, if she couldn't find money soon, she'd be thrown to the streets and forced into prostitution, just like every other worthless wench who couldn't pay her way. The bell above the door to the shop rung and she turned around hopefully, alas, it was only the wind that blew her door open.  
"Damn it all!" She said as she rushed to close it before rats and other street vermin could find their way in from the sickly street. Fleet Street wasn't exactly known for it's cleanliness, or it's friendly people for that matter. Rather, it was named after the putrid ditch in which everyone on Fleet Street dumped their waste and garbage. As the woman closed the door, a sudden chill overtook her for but a moment, leaving her spine to tingle ever so eerily. Shaking a bit, she closed the door fully and leaned against it, breathing deeply. Something was to happen, what she did not know, but yes, strange happenings were going to occur. And by the looks of it, very, very, soon.

Mr. Todd, realizing what he had just done, quickly packed away his razors and stole off, running as fast and far as he could before the Bow Street Runners could hunt him down for his most murderous crime. His relationship with Adallei was over, and he knew he would need somewhere new to practice his trade. He continued to run, that is until, finally winded, he stopped upon a street corner to rest. Once he had regained his breath and composure, he looked up at the metal street sign.

_'Fleet St.'_

Desperately looking for a place to hide, he spotted a pie shop not far down the road that seemed altogether abandoned. Hurriedly, Mr. Todd rushed into the shop and closed the door gently behind him.

"Oh, not again!" The young woman cried as the door creaked open once more. She whirled around to close the door, but instead found herself staring at a breathless young man. A very, handsome, breathless young man at that.  
"Sir, is there somethin' I can 'elp you with?" She asked kindly as she led him to a table in the corner of the shop.  
"Can you tell me where I can possibly set up shop, I'm a barber." He told her in his cold, hard voice. She shivered slightly at the malice hidden within it.  
"I got a room above me shop you can use," She said pointing upwards. "It's empty so it ought to be right useful for you."  
"Thank you, how much do I owe you for use of your spare room?" He asked, already digging for his meager purse. Seeing he had little money to spare, not much different than herself at the moment, she laid a hand on the purse so as to stop him.  
"You can pay me at the end 'o the week Mistah... I'm sorry, I didn't catch ya name." She said, inquiring him to introduce himself to her.  
"Mr. Todd." He said firmly. "And yours my landlady?"  
"Margery Lovett," She said warmly. "But me 'usband used to call me Nellie." She said, hopeful that he might choose the affectionate nick-name of her former husband.  
"Right, I'll be upstairs, Mrs. Lovett." He said as coldly as everything else before taking his bag and setting on up the stairs, dashing her hopes. As he walked into his room, she sighed to herself.  
"Well, this ought to be 'ntresting,"


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE SWEENEY TODD: DEMON BARBER OF FLEET STREET FRANCHISE!**

**Chapter Three: The 'Dearly' Departed,**

Over the next few weeks, Mrs. Lovett would direct people looking for the barber to the upstairs room, but failed to notice that seldom ever came out. She was much too busy fussing over her own thoughts and worries on how to catch the attention of Mr. Todd herself. She was either constantly looking in her cracked bedroom mirror, looking for ways to improve herself, or making pastries that were never sold, or even touched by another human being, most of them went to the vermin. As Mrs. Lovett was once more busying herself in the mirror, the clock on the wall behind her chimed ten times exactly.  
"Ah me, I didn't realize it was this late in the night..." She said, walking over to the door and changing the wooden sign over so that it read closed rather than open. Sighing at her less than busy shop, she blew out the last candle and set off down the hall and into her house part of the building. She glanced fleetingly over the portrait of her late husband. She did somewhat miss the man, he was after all very good to her, always respecting her privacy, always allowing her independence. Suddenly a noise startled Mrs. Lovett and she turned to find that Mr. Todd had knocked on her door and entered quietly.  
"Oh, good evnin' Mr. Todd," She said, giving a slight curtsey. He returned the gesture with an almost imperceptible bow.  
"Is there somethin' you need to speak with me about?" She inquired offering him a chair. He took the proffered chair with a certain air of stiffness. She sat across from him.  
"Yes, you said you had a husband?" He said, his voice cold as always.  
"Yes, I _had_ a 'usband." She said, not quite too sadly. He seemed to pick up on this.  
"Divorced?"  
"Goodness me, no!" She said a bit startled by his sudden curiosity about Mr. Lovett. "The good man died. 'E was rather old you know. It was 'is time." She had an air of false sadness in her tone.  
"Didn't love him, did you Mrs. Lovett?" He said, as if sensing the false care in her words as if they were his own. She sighed.  
"Not really, married 'im for the money and the shop. I was poor, 'e was rich, I was needy, 'e had surplus." She said as casually as if the marriage had been a business deal. "Why sudden curiosity if I might ask Mistah Todd?" She asked, cocking her head slightly, some of her more unruly curls bouncing this way and that.

"I was just wondering why I never see the gentleman around, after all, you are Mrs. Lovett for a reason my dear." Mrs. Lovett's heart fluttered for but a moment or two, perhaps her pains to make herself more appealing to her handsome tenant were working...


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE SWEENEY TODD: DEMON BARBER OF FLEET STREET FRANCHISE!**

**Chapter Four: Why Deny it Here?**

Sweeney Todd stood in his barber shop, staring as men passed in the streets below. In his hand, he held his dearest of friends, his six shiny razors. It had been now three months since he had had his first kill. He was hungry for revenge, revenge against society. So much hunger did he feel that he had made up a machine of his own device. His barber chair, sitting in the middle of the room. He had made it so that each time he had done his murderous act, all he need do was push the lever and watch the body fall to the caverns and tunnels that flowed beneath Fleet Street. Then, the chair would swing back up and he would polish it off for the next poor soul who dared enter his shop for a shave. However, he currently only held three meaningful murders to his account of blood.

First, the foolish man who dared steal his betrothed Adallei, he after all should not have been surprised, the dear was born to be a prostitute along with her sister, second, some poor chap who had let it slip that he had a purse of money he was to give to his master. Poor thing would've lived had he kept his own mouth from running in front of the cold, greedy barber. Third, a poor young man who had been foolish enough to show off his golden pocket-watch. Had he too kept his mouth shut, he would not be lying in the stony grave of St. Dunstan's crypt. Now, something did bother the barber, but swear on his life it was never grief over the foul crimes he committed, rather the pressure that he put on his heart to steer clear of any and all love.

Of course he knew that his landlady below showed more than simple fondness of her tenant. She was a beautiful woman, no one would disagree to that. She had long, unruly curls of auburn hair that if straightened might reach well down her back. She had full lips that any man wouldn't give his life to touch with his own and an alluring stare, one that she used for simple curiosity rather than lust. She was very curious, that woman. Another reason for Sweeney to stay away from her, of course with the exception of paying her for use of the room. In fact, as these thoughts danced over through Sweeney's head as he sat polishing one of his six glistening razors, the door creaked open behind him and in came Mrs. Lovett, a tea tray in hand.

More than surprised, Sweeney jumped from his barber chair and held the razor, ready to slit whatever intruding throat dare walk into his shop during his private thoughts. The tea tray crashed to the wooden floor boards and Mrs. Lovett clasped her hands to her mouth in shock. There stood Sweeney Todd, covered in blood and holding a glistening razor in his hand. Frightened, she backed away and against the wooden frame of the wall behind him, waiting for the attack to come.

"Mrs. Lovett..." He said, half in shock half in confusion. "I promise you I have good reason for this Mrs. Lovett." He said, taking a step towards her. Her heartbeat quickened and she made a run for the door. He was faster, shutting it before she could take one step through. Raising his hands, he gently threw his razor into the chair, trying to show he would not hurt the petrified woman.

"Mis-mistah Todd... please tell me that isn't blood on your shirt?" She said, her voice quiet, but steady and firm.

"I cannot. Nor can you Mrs. Lovett." He said putting his blood-stained hands on her clean shoulders. "Now, now, Mrs. Lovett, or Nellie did you say your nickname was?" He was backing her back against the wooden walls of his shop.

"Y-yes," She said shakily, looking into his dark, cold eyes.

"No one else need know of my most... mysterious deeds, now do they?" He said in his hypnotic voice.

"Look, I 'romised meself I wouldn't get inta anymore thing's like this," She said strongly, though she was still taken by his cold stare, her heart still churning, though not out of fear, but a strange ecstasy of sorts, being pushed against the wall by Mr. Todd like this. "I told meself after me 'usband I was through with this bloody business!"

Sweeney was shocked until a sudden thought hit through his dark mind. Smiling in his twisted way, he looked at Mrs. Lovett.

"Mrs. Lovett, you did mention during one of our most delightful chats that the price of fresh meat had gone up and you could no longer afford it to make your most delectable pies?"

"Yes..." Mrs. Lovett said, wondering what he could possibly be getting at, that is until the same grueling thought flashed through her mind, creating a dancing smile upon her flirtatious lips.

"I have, the most wonderful idea of where you may acquire a most rare and delicious meat to use for your pies, one the public will be most... rioting over." He said, letting his own sickening smile grow as he said this. "After all, we live in a world where people already consume all that they hold dear, why deny it... here."


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE SWEENEY TODD: DEMON BARBER OF FLEET STREET FRANCHISE!  
Me: The two children are supposed to be the supposed boy and girl Mrs. Lovett hired to help around the shop. **

**Chapter Five: James and Madeleine,**

Mrs. Lovett allowed herself a smile as she stood pressed against the wall, Mr. Todd still smiling wickedly after just unfolding his master plan with her, not moving a single inch away in the process, not that Mrs. Lovett minded. The plan sounded simple enough, rather than disposing of the corpses in St. Dunstan's Church crypt below the city, He would run down to the the basement, using a trap door hidden there, and walk through the tunnels to the bodies. Once there, he would do the dirty work of skinning and gutting the dead men. He would then package the meat, organs, and skin in small boxes, burying the bones elsewhere. He would then carry the boxes up stairs and leave them in Mrs. Lovett's shop to be put through the meat grinder. Of course after that, Mrs. Lovett would bake the most delicious of pies that she ever did, her famous meat pies.

Why was she agreeing to do the most punishable of deeds? There are only two reasons that she ever thought of. Reason number one, as long as she wasn't killing the men she was baking, there were no issues with baking them at all because it was simply making good use of dead animals around her. Reason number two, she couldn't very well say no. When you have just discovered that your handsome, young tenant is a serial murderer with revenge upon society to fulfill, then that is the time to either run, or become an accomplice. Running was something that always ended badly for Mrs. Lovett, in the end, whatever she was running from always caught up, and wasn't always merciful. Becoming an accomplice, would mean more business, which would mean more money, money that she desperately needed. It would also mean becoming one step closer to the dark barber, that, even after finding this new fact, still made her heart flutter and pound faster than any rabbit may hope to run.

"Mrs. Lovett," Mr. Todd said, stepping away from her, much to her distaste. "You should be getting down to your shop, and here, for your shoulders." He said, handing her a clean shirt of his. She frowned for a second, then remembered that he had had his bloody hands pressed on her shoulders for a half-hour. She caught the shirt and wet the sleeve at the sink before washing away the stains of blood on her dress sleeve and shoulder. Thanking Mr. Todd, she dropped the shirt in his laundry bin and exited down the stairs and into her pie shop.

At first, Mrs. Lovett had not noticed the two figures crouching in a corner of her shop as they were both very small. When she did notice, they had startled her enough to drop the plates she was carrying, sending them smashing to the floor.

"Damn my luck..." She said, bending down to pick up the shards of porcelain. The two figures came over and picked the pieces from the floor for her. Looking up, she noticed they were two children, not even thirteen years old, but obviously related for they both had the same dirty brown hair, green eyes, and filthy clothing on. Standing and dusting off her hands, she took the broken pieces from their hands and placed them on her counter.

"Now," She said, an air of curiosity in her voice. "What can I do for you?" The two children shied away from her, looking down. "Come now, I won't hurt you. Promise on me life I do." Mrs. Lovett said, reaching out a hand to the petrified children, who obviously had no good past experience with adults. "Come now loves, we can get you all nice and cozy warm in me parlor,"

Grudgingly, the two children took her hands and she led them through the shop and to her parlor, seating them on her couch. She then proceeded to light a fire in the hearth.

"There now, nice and warm by the fire," She said, crossing over to them. "Now loves, tell me what you were doin' in me shop?" Encouragement, not anger, in her voice. One of the children swallowed and started to speak shakily.

"Well, you-you see, my sister, and I, we-we're orphans, and we got no place else to-to go, we thought your shop, was clo-closed, so we came in to sleep. Please don't be ma-mad at us Missus." The young child said, obviously a male child. Mrs. Lovett nodded before silently cursing her like of children.

"Well, I could always use some 'elp in me shop," She said slowly, bringing surprise to the children's faces. "What are your names?"

"My name's James, and my sister's name is Madeleine. You'll 'ave to excuse her Missus, she can't talk." James explained.

"Oh, I see... Well come with me dearies, I've got an extra room in the back of me house. It's small, but the two of you should fit." Mrs. Lovett stood and took their hands, about to lead them through the house when she caught a glimpse of Mr. Todd standing on the stairs, staring at her. "Come on dearies," She said, quickly pulling them out and down the halls, past her bedroom, and to a small back room. "Now, I'll be right back, wait here duckies." She said, closing the door behind her. She turned to find that Mr. Todd had stealthily followed her.

"Mrs. Lovett..." He said slowly. Looking around to make sure no one was outside her window, she grabbed his hand and led him to her bedroom. Once settled with the curtains drawn did he speak again.

"Mrs. Lovett, I had no idea that you had... children." He said the last word with distaste.

"Look, I need help 'round me shop and they're orphaned! Luck smiles like this only once in a while Mr. Todd! Besides, the most they'll be doin' is making pies from the already grinded meat!"

"Fine, you may keep them, but if they get in my way-"

"They won't, I promise on me life!" She said, cutting him off before producing a mischievous smile. "So, what's the real reason you came down 'ere Mr. Todd?"


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE SWEENEY TODD: DEMON BARBER OF FLEET STREET FRANCHISE!**

**Chapter Six: Locked in the Bathroom,**

"To give you you're rent for the month, Mrs. Lovett," He said calmly, placing a few coins in her hand before stalking off to his room above. She sighed, hopes dashed, and placed the money in the purse she kept hidden in her corset, a place she knew no one would dare think to look if they tried to rob her. She walked back to room with the children to find them sleeping, huddling in a corner. She placed the blanket over them and left to the bathroom down the hall.

There, she drew the bath and heated the water. Might as well finish up early today, she was out of pies anyway and too tired to even think of going downstairs and putting all the meat that she had just received from Mr. Todd through the meat grinder and bake them into more pies for the one or two customers that would come this late to her shop. It was a waste of meat. She sighed again, though this time more because she was tired than disappointed. She reached behind her and began to undo the many laces of her dress, letting it pool around her feet before kicking it to the side. Next, she pulled her under-dress over her head and tossed it on top of the dress, followed suit by the unlaced corset, the money placed on the sink.

She lowered herself carefully into the bathtub letting the dirt and grime of the day wash off into the water around her. She leaned back, enjoying the feel of the warm water as it washed over her shoulders and neck. She shut her eyes and let out her hair from the pins that trapped it in her messy bun. She watched through half-closed eyes as her hair floated through the water, little strands breaking apart from the mass slowly. Slowly, she relaxed enough to nod off, taking a small nap in the peaceful water.

Mr. Todd, finished cleaning his razors of blood, tore off his bloody shirt and made his way to the bathroom to wash it clean in the tub. Seeing Mrs. Lovett's bedroom door closed, a flickering light from a candle fluttering within, told him she was most likely in her room reading or whatever else she did in there, after all he had no desire to know of her personal life. He would be close with no one if he could help it. Revenge on society first, friendship last. Shaking his curly red locks he opened the bathroom door and at first did not notice the sleeping Mrs. Lovett, lying in the bath, but soon enough noticed.  
Trying to escape the bathroom before she awakened, he reached to open the door, but to his horror, it was locked from the outside, a fluke of the door that he ad forgotten. Turning back around at the sound of disturbed water, he saw that Mrs. Lovett was awakening from her sleep. Not sure what exactly he could do, he tried to quickly throw his blood-stained shirt over his head, hoping too cover himself before the already affectionate Mrs. Lovett saw.

Mrs. Lovett stirred from her sleep as a slight commotion was heard beside her. Slowly, her eyes fluttered open, slightly murking her vision for a second or so before her eyes were able to refocus in the shocking dimness of the bathroom, her nap had been longer than expected as the candle had nearly burned out. What shocked her more was the figure of a man, lurking by the door. Nearly jumping out of her own pale skin, she quickly reached for a cloth of any sorts to cover herself with. Once she had, she spoke.  
"Alright, ya joker, who are ya?" She said, a slight anger in her voice. "Cause whoever you think ya are -" Shock hit her as she recognized the man. "Mr. Todd?" She asked, slightly dazed.  
"Yes, Mrs. Lovett. Contrary to whatever you might think, I hadn't the slightest clue you were in here. We're locked in." He said, averting his eyes from her as she rose from the bath and placed her under-dress on.  
"Locked in you say?" She muttered, a slew of ideas running through her very, creative, mind.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE SWEENEY TODD: DEMON BARBER OF FLEET STREET FRANCHISE!**

**Chapter Seven: Distracting Thoughts,**

"Yes, now I don't suppose you have that key?" He said, turning away as she slipped her dress over her head, not bothering with the laces or the corset. Smiling, though he could not see, she told him no.  
"Then how do you suppose we get out?" He asked, trying to control his frustration.  
"Wait, until the children get up." She said, before quickly adding, "Of course that might not be for hours upon hours..." He could hear her step closer to him as the light grew ever dimmer. He sighed, whether he liked it or not he was stuck in here, with Mrs. Lovett. He heard fabric drop to the floor behind him and turned, one eyebrow raised.  
"Well, you don't expect me to sleep in my dress do you?" She asked, still wearing her under-dress which now was easily seen through because she had not dried herself properly before slipping it on. "You probably shouldn't sleep in that bloody thing either, might alert the children," She said, secretly wanting him to remove it for more selfish reasons. Grunting, he grudgingly took it off, feeling her eyes glaze over the many scars on his back from abusement in New Gate.  
"Here," He said coldly, tossing it to her. She caught it and slowly set to work cleaning it the still water, making sure he got a good view of her waist and back. He averted his eyes and sat on the floor against the wall, resting his elbow on his knee and his head on his fist.  
She sighed, her attempt to get him to notice her small figure failed. She held onto his shirt in the water, feeling it over, ashing away the stains. She wished it were him instead. She looked over her shoulder at the thought of him, and found him in a forced sleep against the wall. Hoping he wouldn't notice, she put the now clean shirt in the sink and sat down beside him, gave him a kiss on the cheek so light, you might not have believed there had been a touch there at all, and leaned her head against his shoulder, drifting off into her own sleep.

He didn't bother pushing her off, there was no use, she had no where else to sleep in the small bathroom, he'd just have to wait it out. Sighing inwardly, he drifted off into real sleep, and without realizing it, placed his own head atop Mrs. Lovett's.

The next morning, Mrs. Lovett stirred from her sleep. Smiling, she noticed he'd leaned against her in his sleep. Her smile disappeared though as she heard the children looking for her, she knew she'd have to call to them. She stood and removed her under-dress to place on her corset, lacing it up quickly and placing her purse inside. Next came her under-dress again and finally her dress. She laced it up quickly and went to Sweeney, shaking his shoulder lightly.  
"Wake up love, the children are awake." She whispered as he stirred. He stood up, stiff from sleeping in such an odd position. He nodded and knocked on the bathroom door loudly as he heard the children coming past, James calling out for Mrs. Lovett. The boy heard and called out again.  
"In here loves!" Mrs. Lovett called out. "We're locked in, get the key off me dresser," She called, listening as he scurried off to her bedroom, coming back, and placing thew key through the hole. The lock clicked and they opened the door, free at last. At first they were both confused by the boy's shocked expression, that is until they realized Mr. Todd had forgotten to place on his shirt and Mrs. Lovett's dress was a little ruffled, as though it had been on the floor all night and tossed at that. Quickly, she fetched his shirt and his placed it on.  
"Now, come on, best be getting you two cleaned up for work," She said hurrying them into the bathroom and replacing the candle. "Till dinner then Mr. Todd," She said before closing the door, though not completely so as not to lock herself in.

As she cleaned the children off in a fresh bath, she was surprised to find that they were actually quite pale, contrary to what she had assumed with their grimy skin. She also found that James had black hair, rather than brown as she had thought before and Madeleine had soft, light brunette curls, much like her own as a child. Still though, she couldn't help but bring her mind back around to the numerous scars on Sweeney Todd's back. How she wished she could trace them, feel his past through his scars. She shook her head and refocused on dressing the children in their now clean clothing and setting them to work on helping her make pies in the shop below.

Meanwhile, Mr. Todd in his barber shop above couldn't quite focus on his victims that day. More than twice he had let a man go without realizing he'd forgotten to cut their throats. For some reason that he silently cursed, his mind continued to travel back to her body and the way that her waist curved. It'd been nearly a year since he had seen a woman's body like that, or felt a woman on his chest. Though he does admit that he'd never had the pleasure of going farther than that. That was it, he had to close shop. He had just let his fifth customer go that day because of his foolish thoughts. If he did not fix this soon, he and Mrs. Lovett would go out of business.  
His shirt, clean of all blood, shocked her the most as he came into the shop. She gave him a questioning look, and he merely gestured to the children, whom she sent to bed straight after. He walked over to her.  
"What is it Mr. T, why've you got no blood on your shirt?" She asked, slightly concerned.  
"Mrs. Lovett, we need to talk."


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE SWEENEY TODD: DEMON BARBER OF FLEET STREET FRANCHISE!  
Me: Sorry if this chapter is complete rubbish.**

**Chapter Eight: Who'd Have Ever Thought It?**

Mrs. Lovett's heart raced, pounding against her chest, threatening to break through the soft skin. She took in his expression, trying to read his thoughts, his intentions. Unfortunatly, he was as unreadable as he always was. Still there was something in his black eyes that astounded her, something she'd never seen in them before, but what she could not quite place. Still, whatever it was, it was there, and it held every secret to what he wanted to talk to her about tonight. Checking that the two children were well into their bedroom, Mrs. Lovett motioned towards the parlor and locked up her shop before following him in and closing the door behind her.

"Well Mr. T, what did ya need to talk to me about?" She asked, taking a seat on the couch, motioning for him to sit some place as well. Stiffly, he took a seat in the armchair across from her. She leaned forward, anxious to hear what he was going to tell her, wanting him to just say it as the curiosity was already eating away at her mind.

"Mrs. Lov- Margery," He said, trying to be casual, yet not quite using her nickname. Her heart beat faster still. He had said her name, drawing her meaning to him that much closer to his heart. "I have had some, _troubling,_ thoughts this evening." His cold eyes stayed locked on her swirling amber ones. "Thoughts that might be helped." He finished, staring at her intently.

"What types o' thoughts Mistah T?" She asked, her heart beat still pounding, thudding in her eardrums and racing through her veins.

"Ever since I have been here Margery, you have shown an amount of affection for me most uncommon of that for a land lord to their tenant." He was still using her first name. "As you know, I have not had the company of a woman in nearly a full year." Her heart beat quickened to that of a rabbits. Her silence edged him further. "I am not asking you, nor commanding you, to do as I am asking you tonight." Her heart was no longer a heart but a thudding reminder against her chest. "Margery, Nellie, Mrs. Lovett, court you, may I?" He asked, fumbling over the last sentence. She hid a giggle at thr notion that the mass-murdering Sweeney Todd, who had no issues with giving her the meat off of his victims bones, would be one to fumble his words when merely asking a woman for courtship.  
Blinking the thoughts away, she leaned in, nearly touching his lips with her own, and whispered one enchanting word;

"Yes," Now who'd have ever thought it?


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE SWEENEY TODD: DEMON BARBER OF FLEET STREET FRANCHISE!**

**Me: Sorry this is much shorter than most of my other chapters!**

**Chapter Nine: Troubling Issues,**

Upon hearing the simple word, he completed the distance between their lips, catching her almost slightly off-guard. Still, she leaned into the kiss, accepting what she had been waiting for for nearly a full year herself. He grabbed her closer to him, the drive within him strengthening from not feeling the touch of a woman in so long. He ran her fingers through her soft brunette curls, releasing them from their pins, sending them cascading down her back. Still, for an odd reason or another that he nor she could not place, something was not quite right in this. He pulled back from the kiss, his hands still holding her waist, and stared into her eyes, sending the message that something felt wrong about it all.

Her eyes glinted with disappointment for a moment, but was replaced with confusion. She cocked her head and stared at him, noticing his arms still holding her tenderly at the waist. He simply picked her up, sat her down next to him, stood, and left the room without another word to her. She couldn't quite figure out what to make of this in the slightest. Yet, her confusion could not hold back the tears that crept into the corners of her eyes from rolling softly down her cheeks and to the floor below. She hugged her knees tightly and huddled herself together, hiding her face with her loose curls, some loose strands sticking to the tears on her face.

He walked out of the shop and into his room above, contemplating what had just happened. What he had said was true, yes. He was lonely, he did miss women, but there was one problem. There was a reason he had sworn off any and all love. His revenge against society must come first. Still, there was another issue tearing at his heart, why could he not stop thinking of her body, and more importantly, her company as a person?


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE SWEENEY TODD: DEMON BARBER OF FLEET STREET FRANCHISE!  
Me: Total bull, possibly.**

**Chapter Ten: Thought,  
**

Over the next few days or so, Sweeney refused to enter the shop, and refused to open his own at that, leaving Mrs. Lovett to close her shop as well and let the children simply do housework rather than shop-work. Mr. Todd had been so deep in thought, he had not left the very spot he sat in in the corner of his shop for several days. Not noticing that he hadn't slept in two days, nor had he eaten since the incident with Mrs. Lovett. His thoughts were at such a depth that he did not hear as Mrs. Lovett herself opened the door and stepped inside with a tray of food, knowing he had not eaten for several days on end, worried that he would starve himself if he did not eat soon. She set the tray down gingerly and looked at him, realizing he had not heard a single thing she'd done. Concerned she went over to him, lightly touching his shoulder.

Feeling the brush of a hand upon his shoulder, Sweeney Todd turned his head to look at the hand, recognizing to whom it did belong to. Turning back to his former position, he ignored her. Frustrated, she walked in front of him and kneeled on the ground, coming face to face with the murderer. With no escape from her, he finally asked what she wanted. Sighing she stood and brought the tray over to him.

"Eat," Was all she said before laying it so that it rested on her knees as she sat across from him in another chair. When he didn't move at all, she told him; "I'm not leaving until you've eaten all of this." Even though she herself left out the small fact that she had not eaten either. Grudgingly, Sweeney picked up the bowl of soup, and making barely any noise or motion than was needed, ate it quickly before a sound pierced the air. A stomach growling, and most definitely not his own. He arched an eyebrow at Mrs. Lovett before pushing the rest of the food towards her, getting up, and exiting, closing the door behind him.

It'd be another week before they spoke again, though they both did re-open their shops to the public, realizing they needed the business. Meanwhile, Sweeney had finally come to the conclusion of why on that fateful night had he not been able to do what he had sought to do, and revenge had nothing to do with it. Sighing, he closed his shop early and came downstairs, hiding in the edge of the crowd in Mrs. Lovett's shop. He watched as she served people his victims and took orders as the children cleared away dishes and brought out pies to waiting customers. More importantly, he watched her every movement, taking in the correct moment to pull her inside of the parlor.

She was coming closer to him, the time was perfect. As she finished serving a customer, he grabbed her wrist and whisked her through the door before she could question who it was that had the nerve to pull her away from her shop. Seeing it was Mr. Todd, she crossed her arms and waited for an explanation from the man whom she still was devoted to, heart and soul. He then took her wrist again and led her to his shop, still wearing a blood-soaked shirt, a small bit of blood upon his face as well. Having no choice but to follow him, she did. Once inside, he motioned for her to sit, she did, curious by this point rather than angry with him.

When he did not speak, she said in a voice barely above a whisper, "Mr. T?" He looked at her, almost as if he had forgotten that she was there. He shook his head slightly, some of his red curls that had grown longer bouncing this way and that at the slight movement of his head. He came to stand by his window, still staring at her, making her wonder what he had brought her up here for. He had a complex look upon him, as if deciphering a hidden code that she could not find. Finally, he approached her.

"Mrs. Lovett," He said, his voice hardly audible. "I have been thinking since that night in your parlor a week or so ago. I apologize for taking advantage of your affections," She almost could not hear the very last part, "Before realizing my own, for you."


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE SWEENEY TODD: DEMON BARBER OF FLEET STREET FRANCHISE!  
Me: Meant to update earlier, but I was at the 'Race for the Cure' for breast cancer with my mom, my English 9 teacher, and my mom's co-workers.  
Arya: Anyways, on with our lovely's story!  
Annabeth and Ajihad: Don't forget to review!  
Athena: Even if you hate it, criticism is welcome ^^**

**Chapter Eleven: The Notebook,  
**

Mrs. Lovett, dazed by the fact that he'd told her he had affections for her, took a moment to register his words and act upon them herself. Carefully, she rose, timid and quiet for once in her life. She took one small step towards him, barely breathing, almost as if she thought him a frightened rabbit that might run off if she moved too quickly before it. Not quite sure what to do beyond that, even though she had had such great confidence the first time he had said something that might allow her to touch him or kiss him or hold him. For once in Margery's life, she was at a complete loss for all words or movement.  
Mr. Todd, sensing this strange behavior of his normally stubborn and opinionated land-lady, looked back to her. He took a small step towards her, reaching up a silent hand and taking her own in it's grasp. He looked at her pleadingly, almost as if asking for her forgiveness, a rare slimmer of guilt shining lightly in his eyes. She managed to lock eyes with him, still not able to speak, transferring her confusion to him before looking down and stepping away from him, heading towards the door. Before she closed it behind herself however, she muttered;  
"'M sorry Mr. T,"

Once inside her shop, she flipped the sin on her door from 'Open', to 'Sold Out', telling James and Madeleine to shoo any customers from the store, knowing full well she still had enough pies to go for at least another hour. She hurried to the parlor, locking the door behind her before sinking against the wall, burying her face against the door, letting her confusion poor from her eyes in the form of tears, allowing them to sink into her dress, not really caring what-so-ever if it got ruined in the process.  
She was so confused and lost by the barber's words. She couldn't tell if they were real or if he was using her, whether he meant them, or if she was simply a tool in his life, used only when needed and locked away for the rest of the time. Mrs. Lovett had lost all track of time as she let the tears pour down her cheeks, staining their pale features. Eventually, even though she had tried to resist it, the urge to sleep had made her succumb to her dreams.

Mr. Todd paced in his shop above, continually staring at the floor or out of the window, as if hoping answers would come to him that way. Why had she left him after he had confessed what she had been waiting for for nearly a year? The question had burned itself upon him, branding him, continuing to smolder lest he find the answer to this question. He loved her, though he despised the idea, he did not despise her. She had become his greatest friend, his only friend. '_Idiot', _was the only thought resounding through his head. He'd ruined his relationship, his last one at that, with Mrs. Lovett.  
No, not Mrs. Lovett, he was over with that, Margery, maybe even Nellie if she'd let him. There had to be a way to win her back, make her see he simply needs her, even just as a friend, near him, everyday of every year. Now, what was that dream that she had always had? Damn it all, why hadn't he been listening when she babbled that day! Frustrated, Sweeney sat down on the edge of his bed pulled out a notebook that he used specifically for moments when he was so frustrated he couldn't stand it, moments exactly like this.  
Opening the small, black, sketch-pad styled notebook to the first blank page, he found himself drawing something. As he continued, not quite sure what he was supposed to be drawing, he noticed the features of a familiar person. Smiling after a while, he looked at his finished work and stared into the pencil-leaded eyes of Mrs. Lovett. That's when the dream had hit him, he remembered it now!  
Wanting to race downstairs and burst through her shop door, he restrained himself, realizing just how late in the night it had gotten. Sighing, he mentally wrote down his plan and put the notebook in it's former place before removing his blood-stained shirt and placing a fresh white shirt without the vest on and climbed into bed, trying, unsuccessfully, to fall into sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE SWEENEY TODD: DEMON BARBER OF FLEET STREET FRANCHISE!  
Me: If you're wondering, I've decided to name Mrs. Lovett's siblings: Annabeth, Sarah, Amelia, Gillian, Salem, Nicholas, and Thomas.**

**Chapter Twelve: Memories,**

The following morning, Mrs. Lovett stirred, noticing that she was not in her bed, curled in the usual ball on her side like she was used to waking up in. Groaning tiredly, she shook her head and remembered what had happened the previous night, what Mr. Todd had said. She could feel empty tears welling up behind her eyes, but pushed the thought aside, determined to get through the day if it killed her, or more specifically, he killed her. Pushing herself up off the floor, she headed to her bedroom. Closing the door behind her she walked too her dresser and looked into the mirror propped above it. It wasn't a proper vanity, but it was all she could afford in these hard times.

Looking at her reflection, she sighed. She'd need to change her dress as the tears had stained them and would have to conceal the tear-tracks themselves with powder so as not to arose suspicion from nosy neighbors. Opening a drawer of the dresser, she pulled out one of her few, very old dresses that had been a sort-of hand-me-down when her mother had died and none of her sisters had claimed her dresses. She lay the blue dress gently on the bed, remembering how much her mother had cared about that dress when she had still been alive. It was the most expensive article of clothing her mother had ever owned, the only clothing she had ever bought rather than made herself.

Shaking her head clear of thoughts, Mrs. Lovett carefully unlaced the current dress she was wearing and let it fall to the floor around her. Stepping out of the small pool of fabric that had laid to rest by her feet, she picked it up and put it in the laundry basket in the corner of the room. Turning to her mother's dress, she picked it up with gentle fingers and carefully stepped into, treating the dress with just as much care as her mother had when she had so proudly bought it nearly twenty years ago. Once it was on correctly, she began the careful process of lacing the dress.

When she was finished, she stepped back, taking in her reflection in the mirror before her. The dress was nothing special. It wasn't exactly expensive, simply expensive in the terms of her families funds at that time. It was a light shade of blue, rippling to floor in gentle waves of simple fabric. It had a small white collar that clasped at the neck and the sleeves cut off at her shoulders, falling gracefully about her. The funny thing was, the more she looked at herself in the dress, the more she was sure she saw her mother staring back at her, smiling radiantly as the day the day she bought it. She could almost just see herself and her four sisters standing around her, gasping at how beautiful their mother looked and begging their three brothers to come have a look see at mummy's new dress.

But as she looked at her eyes, she could still see Margery Lovett's tear-stained face shining through, reminding her not to get lost in silly day-dreams, even if they were about her dear mother who had cared for her so well. Sighing once more, she dug through the drawers until she found the powder and began masking her pale, tear-stained face with it.

Mr. Todd awoke from a restless sleep the next morning. Remembering his plan that he had made up the night before, he dashed out of bed and buttoned his shirt quickly. Throwing on his vest and neck-scarf, he put a notice on the door that shop would not open that day. Running down the steps two at a time he raced for her pie shop. Only seeing the two children cleaning the counters, he inquired them as to where Mrs. Lovett might be. The small girl, unable to speak, pointed to the floor, signaling the bake house. Sending James to fetch her, Mr. Todd sat at the counter. Staring at the silent child that remained, curious he asked,

"Madeleine is it?" She nodded. "Can you speak?" She shook her head. He was about to ask another question, but James had returned with Mrs. Lovett in hand.


	13. Chapter 13

**AN: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE SWEENEY TODD: DEMON BARBER OF FLEET STREET FRANCHISE!**

**Chapter Thirteen: Green Finch and Linnet Bird,**

Madeleine flinched as Mr. Todd asked her if she could speak. Memories began flooding through her mind, image after image after image, as if competing for a race she could not win. Forcing herself to do so, she watched as Mr. Todd approached Mrs. Lovett. She would not cry now, not when everyone was still here. Not when James was still here. She once more forced herself to look upon reality, rather than her tormenting past.  
"Mrs. Lovett," He had said as he approached her warily. "May I speak with you? Apart from these children?" She was surprised at how calm and even the dark man's voice was as he said this to Mrs. Lovett, almost as if he was really letting her choose whether they would not in privacy or not. How marvelous it would be to have decisions made on your own accord. Still, she watched on.  
Mrs. Lovett did not want to talk it seemed, but then why had she just nodded and pointed towards the parlor? Madeleine was curious, but the images and memories were still flooding her, drowning her. She watched as they walked into the parlor, shutting the door behind them. Without saying a single word, she dropped the dish-towel she held in her small fingers and walked out of the shop, leaving James behind her, though he did not seem concerned by this.  
Taking in the familiar scent and sounds of the streets of London, she carefully began her way to the one place of solace she felt that she could run to at that moment, the one place all those memories were allowed to flood her, torturing her mind with her dangerous past. Running as fast as her small legs could take her, she continued. The people around her began to blur as she ran, not so much from her speed, but rather from the racing memories and emotions that had no made their way through to other parts of her body, clouding her judgment and common sense. She pushed past people and continued to run, adrenalin and a need to feel safe forcing her onward.  
Finally, after what seemed like hours, she arrived in front of an old, broken down shack on the outskirts of London, breathless and wide-eyed. Taking but a moment to breath she raced inside the creaking shack, carefully moving once inside. She ran her eyes over the familiar wooden floors, the rotting wooden walls, and the one piece of furniture in the entire room, a single blanket on the floor. Her breath shaking and her legs buckling beneath her, she collapsed on the floor on the shack, finally allowing every torturing memory hit her.  
Like horrifying ghosts the haunted her, the past that lived in these useless walls. The memories were here...

_"Useless, that's all she'll ever be."  
"Good for nothing, won't even talk..."  
"Start talking or you'll meet the same end your useless mother had,"  
"She understands nothing, she'll never be anymore useful than her brain-dead mother was,"_

_ "James?" A frightened voice called out, a child's voice. "James, don't go! Don't leave!"  
"Madeleine stay here!"A young boy's voice had ordered her. _

_ "Useless, that's what you are," A cruel voice told her before a hand smacked across her face. "I killed your mother, I can easily kill you, you're good for nothing."  
_

_ "Nothing," _That was the last word that resounded through her mind as she awoke from the nightmares of her past. Looking at her arms and legs she noticed blood. She'd attacked herself again. She couldn't let James see, he'd be so angry, he was all she had. Sighing, she looked towards the only source of light, a window next to the door. Perched, staring at her trembling form were two small birds.

"Green Finch and Linnet Bird..." She whispered shakily before closing her eyes and imaging what it must be like to be free, like her beloved linnet bird...


	14. Chapter 14

**AN: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE SWEENEY TODD: DEMON BARBER OF FLEET STREET FRANCHISE!**

**Me: Garbage, I know.**

**Chapter Fourteen: Seven Years,**

"Mrs. Lovett," He said as he shut the door to the parlor behind him. "May I take you somewhere? You need not go with me as an affectionate, but simply as a friend, or a land-lady, whichever you prefer." The look on her face was uncertain. He tried a smile, the first he'd given in many years, not even the slimmer of a smile had played on his lips at New Gate prison. He wasn't practiced at it, but he could tell it had affected her. "Please? It would mean so much to me."  
Sighing, Mrs. Lovett stood from where she had seated herself and nodded her approval to him. Gently, not wanting to disrupt her, he took her hand in his, leading her out into the shop, where strangely only the boy remained. He continued to the door, assuming the girl was elsewhere. He led her outside to where a horse was awaiting them. Sending him a questioning stare, she looked at him. Smiling he lifted himself onto the horse and pulled her up behind him and began to make the horse go at a trot down the road, making her grab his waist regretfully.

They rode for a half-hour north, still not an inkling of where they were supposed to be headed in her mind. Finally they stopped and she gasped at the scene before her. They were at the only shore in London. And at that shore, stood her seven siblings before a forgotten house.  
"Mr. T... How did you do this? In one night non-the-less!" She asked as he dismounted.  
"People can do all sorts of things, when they are in love." He murmured, a blush coming to his normally pale cheek. Blushing herself she thanked him with a kiss to his cheek before running as fast as she could to her siblings, embracing them all at once. The first time in seven long years.  
Standing back, she took them all in. Annabeth was still just as she remembered, long red hair that fell to her lower back in neat, organized curls, pale blue eyes shining as bright as her white smile. She stood wearing a simple green frock. Sarah, she had manageable curls of sandy-blond hair and bright green eyes that contradicted her many freckles covering her face. Amelia, the eldest of them all, she had short, wild curls of black hair that reached her shoulders, and storm-gray eyes. Then there was sweet Gillian who was only a year older than Margery herself. She had blond hair that was almost fighting to be red like Annabeth's, and hazel, almost gold eyes. Now for her brothers, Salem, he had the darkest raven hair and deep chocolate brown eyes that matched him perfectly, though she could swear they still held that glint of mischief they had had when he was a boy. The twins, Nicholas, Thomas, they each had flaming red hair and the darkest sea-green eyes. She missed these faces, the only family she had left stood before her in front of the house they had grown up inside.

It really had been seven long years. Seven years since she married Albert, seven years since her father had killed himself, leaving Nellie who was only twelve at that time to be forced into marriage to help her family from the poor-house. She was the youngest, and Annabeth had already married and been left to fend for herself soon afterwards when he had left her. The last of their money with him. It had been hard, the oldest, Amelia, was only eighteen herself, hardly able to keep them all fed and alive. But now, that was over, they had all separated when they were evicted from that very house. Seven long years.

Watching from a distance, he stood. It had taken him a simple secret letter to get them all here, for her. Seeing her so happy, melted the heart that had been so long frozen over by the abandonment of his parents and his many years in New Gate prison. For once in the barber's short life of twenty years, he felt happy, and it wasn't even done for him. Still, something haunted him, a hatred still burned in his still cold heart that was only just cooling. Whether accepting love in him or not was wise, he still had revenge to seek, and vengeance he would have. Not bothering to tell Mrs. Lovett, he walked off, heading for his shop.  
Once inside the shop, he hastily removed the sign and took hold of his razors immediately. A man came strolling in soon after.  
"Care for a shave my good sir?"


	15. Chapter 15

**AN: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE SWEENEY TODD: DEMON BARBER OF FLEET STREET FRANCHISE!  
****Me: Sorry 'bout the bit of lateness that comes with this installment ^^' I've been a bit swamped, and because it's getting pretty late, I'm not quite sure how this one'll turn out.  
Arya: Hope you enjoy it anyways!  
Athena: And please do review! We love reviews ^^  
Annabeth: Though I'm sure she'll kill me subconsciously later, Colby is a bit upset at the moment. So go easy on her if you feel a desire to flame, alright?**

**Chapter Fifteen: Dreaming,**

Falling into an uneasy sleep, Madeleine stayed in the old abandoned shack that she had once called her home. As she lay motionless, her breathing slowed and her body curled up in a small ball, she began to dream.

_Madeleine wandered into the shack, surprised to see it as it once had been years ago. In the right corner lay a small bed, in the left, a furnace, a small but steady fire growing in it's pit. In the center sat a lone rocking chair. Startled, Madeleine hid as she saw a young child, no older than seven, enter the room. The child was beautiful, long locks of brunette hair falling around her shoulders and back, a small form, but the most intriguing feature was the child's eyes. Her emerald eyes did not seem that of a child, rather they held ghosts and fear eminent within their gaze. Frightened, the child whirled her head to look behind her, relief flooding her eyes when a small boy entered the room.  
__  
The boy was very familiar to Madeleine, like a memory long since lost, trying unsuccessfully to return to the surface of her mind. He had the same brunette hair and eyes as the female child. Urgently, he took hold of her hands and tried to force her out of the room in time, but Madeleine saw it was too late, a tall man had entered the room, shoving a woman along in front of him. He was a burly man, the look on his face showing such great hatred that Madeleine had only ever recognized as a small child, much like the one before her._

The man began to strike the woman, beating her senseless, not caring that the children were crying out for him to stop. Then when he had finished her, leaving her bleeding form on the floor, he turned to face the boy who had tried to pull him off of the woman in a desperate attempt to rescue her. Smiling he approached the young lad who had begun to back away.

_"James?" The child called out from where she huddled against the wall, turning her tear-streaked face towards the scene. "James, Don't go! don't leave!" She called out, afraid of what was to come. Trying to stand, she found her legs failed her; Madeleine had heard what she was terrified she would. That little girl was her._


	16. Chapter 16

**Me: I'm really really sorry that I haven't updated anything in so long now. I really do feel guilty about it, mainly because I kinda had no reason to keep putting it off. Anyways, I hope you enjoy the story. Sorry it's not much...  
Athena: And please review?**Mrs. Lovett was radiant to be around her seven siblings once more. Growing up in the broken-down house before them had been hard, especially after the loss of their mother, and more than often they were all that each other had. Turning back to thank Mr. Todd once more for bringing her here she frowned. He had gone, and not even bothered to tell her so. As angry and slightly sad as that had made her feel, she turned her attention back to her siblings and her childhood home.

"Oh, Margie!" Gillian sighed, clasping Mrs. Lovett's hands in her own making her smile slightly. It had been a long time since someone had called her Margie. "It's been so long. Why don't we all go back in the old house for a chat in our old bedroom eh? Bring back some memories?" Mrs. Lovett knew Gillian had only suggested going into the house because she had seen her frown before she could hide it from them, but she agreed anyway and they all set off into the remnants of a once grand home.

Chapter Sixteen:

A chirping noise resounded through the small shack and Madeleine slowly opened her eyes after having fallen to sleep in the shack the night before. Sitting up and stretching herself out, she found the source and smiled. Sitting on the rotting floor-boards was a small little bird. Scooping it up in her small hands, she walked over to the window and set it free outside. Then, realizing just how late in the morning it had become, she rushed to the door and through the now very busy streets of mid-morning London.

Just as she was rounding the first corner however, a hand latched itself upon her small shoulders and pulled her aside and into one of the many dead-ended alleyways. Trying to scream, she found her voice had failed her still. She was being dragged deeper into the alleyway when the person that had grabbed her turned her to face him. That moment was when every nerve in her body told to run, but her fear told her to freeze.


	17. Chapter 17

**AN: I AM REWRITING THE CHAPTERS AND WILL HAVE ALL PLUS A NEW ONE RE-UPLOADED BY WEDNESDAY!**

- SHAGGELMALOVE


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